


Just a Touch of Your Love

by sunsetmog



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Illnesses, M/M, Soul Bond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-08
Updated: 2018-04-08
Packaged: 2019-04-20 03:41:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14252262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunsetmog/pseuds/sunsetmog
Summary: Harry couldn't make Draco better and he couldn't ask for help, and right now he'd do anything just to keep him safe, and make sure he knew he was loved.





	Just a Touch of Your Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bellavenom](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellavenom/gifts).



> For **bellavenom** , on her birthday (at least I think it's her birthday today. If it isn't, happy story day!). I hope this makes sense. I've been telling bits of this story in private messages for a very long time, and in my head it's about a million words long, so what I thought I'd do is condense this down to 2000 words so that **bellavenom** could have a story about Draco and his love of tiny, ridiculous animal figurines, and Harry, the guy who loves him.

Harry kept thinking about Draco's room. 

Even now, when Draco was with him, when he was safe, even now when Draco was so tired he couldn't keep his eyes open and his fingers shook around his cup of tea, when Harry had to cut his food up because he couldn't hold a knife steady, Harry kept thinking about Draco's room. 

It had been cold and damp when Harry had found him, both inside and outside, and Draco's room wasn't warm enough. It had two blankets on the bed but no sheet, and his clothes had been folded into the bottom of a wardrobe with only one door and no hangers. There had been a couple of battered and falling apart books on the floor by the bed; bits and pieces from a life half lived. There was soap and a flannel and a towel on the shelf by the door, some washing powder and some biscuits and some tea bags next to it. An old electric kettle plugged in by the window. And then, on the bedside table, next to an alarm clock, two tiny little china figurines. One was a fox, little and orange and curled up, and the other, an orange-beige fawn with a chipped ear and a shiny nose. 

Draco had taken all of his things with him when he'd come away with Harry, every last scrap of his belongings, even his rolls of toilet paper and the chipped, old mug he had his tea in. But Harry had watched him wrap those two tiny little figurines in his socks, gentle and careful and protective of them. Then, when they'd unpacked at the new place, at the little house Harry had found for them so that Draco could recover and get well, and where the two of them could learn to manage their bond, Draco had cleaned the mantelpiece first, rubbing it down so that the dust and the dirt was gone. He'd put the little fox and the fawn there, pride of place. 

He'd found them himself, he told Harry, late one night when they were curled into each on the sofa, where the tattooed snake that wrapped itself around Draco's wrist slipped around Harry's wrist, entwining itself with Harry's snake. He'd found them on a little stall at a jumble sale, and he'd had enough of an idea of Muggle money by then to hand over a couple of quid and take them home. Two tiny, ridiculous figurines that were all he had after a lifetime of having everything that he'd ever wanted. 

"It's okay if you don't like them," he told Harry. "I can move them."

"No," Harry said. "Leave them just where they are."

~*~

Later, when Draco didn't get better, and his exhaustion got worse and the shake in his fingertips got more pronounced, Harry found him others. A little badger with a pink nose, a labrador puppy, a sheepdog to add to his collection. Little animal figures that found their way onto the mantelpiece, whilst Draco's original two made it upstairs and onto his bedside table.

"They're stupid," Draco said. "I know it."

"They're not," Harry said, because he couldn't make Draco better and he couldn't ask for help, and right now he'd do anything just to keep him safe, and make sure he knew he was loved. "We can fill the house with them if you want." _Anything you want_ , he'd told him, the words lost in the quiet of their room, in the silence of their lives. 

"Love you," Draco said softly. He'd been asleep before Harry said it back. 

~*~

His collection grew over the months, tiny little animal figurines from the charity shops on the high street, from the weekly second hand market by the train station. Draco counting out his Muggle money with shaking hands, Harry's arm tucked into his. At the tiny cafe where Draco did a few hours a week, Sheila, the owner, let him have the collection of ornaments that had belonged to her mother, and Draco displayed them proudly. Tommy, Sheila's husband, had put him up a little shelf in their living room just for them. 

"Is he getting worse?" Sheila asked, one Thursday when the cafe was quiet and Draco sat at the counter and smiled at the little girl colouring at one of the tables. 

Harry, who was learning how to do bookkeeping in an evening class at the local adult education centre, and who used Draco's shifts as an excuse to do his homework at the same time as carrying the coffees over to customers when Draco's hands shook too much for him to do it himself, tried to smile. 

"Yes," he said softly, "and I can't stop it."

Sheila cooked Sunday lunch for them, and Tommy helped Harry with the garden, and they gave Draco a job and brought them into their lives. They'd never seen magic, and Draco was terrified of it, and Harry wanted so badly to keep them safe that he hadn't touched his wand in months. 

"What about the doctors?" Sheila asked. "What do they say?"

"He doesn't deserve this," Harry said, which wasn't an answer. 

"Neither do you," Sheila said, and Harry thought, _that's a lie_.

~*~ 

He was at home when the phone call came, when Sheila rang him up and said carefully, "There are two people here, and they're asking for you, and they have wands that they're pointing at Draco."

Harry apparated to the cafe, barefoot and in his pyjamas, and found Hermione and Ron there with their wands out, Draco standing frozen by the counter, and Sheila sitting carefully next to the phone. Harry was in front of Draco in seconds, reaching behind him for Draco's hand, their tattooed snakes entwining around their wrists, Sheila watching on in shock. 

"Harry," Hermione said. "Thank god. We've been looking for you everywhere."

"Put your wands down," Harry said. He squeezed Draco's hand. It was cold and clammy. 

"We've been looking for you for months," Ron said. "And all the time you're here, with him?"

Draco was shaking. "Harry," he said. 

"It's okay," Harry said, without looking back. "I've got you."

"Where's his wand?" Ron asked. "He's not got it on him."

" _Harry_ ," Draco said, more insistently this time, and when Harry turned around, Draco's legs gave out on him, and he stumbled, then fell. 

Of all the things to be felled with, _expelliarmus_ was the worst. 

~*~

"What's wrong with him?" Hermione asked, once Harry had thrown caution to the wind and apparated Draco home and got him in bed, and resting. Sheila was there too, Tommy behind her, and Tommy went out into the garden to give the flower beds a going over whilst Sheila made them tea. 

"I've made his lordship some too," Sheila said. Draco's cup was different to theirs, one Harry had got out of a catalogue Sheila had got for him, one with all kinds of mobility aids for people with shaking hands and poor balance and muscle weakness. "I'll take it up."

Harry nodded. Ron was staring at Draco's shelf of little dusted ornaments, his collection of tiny animals, all set out beautifully. 

"What is it?" Hermione asked again, more urgently this time, and Harry looked up and said, _I think I've killed him_. 

~*~

Later, when Draco was awake again, and Harry had helped him downstairs, and Hermione and Ron watched on with barely disguised horror, Sheila came in from the kitchen. "I've done the washing up," she said. "Sorted out your fridge. Come over for your lunch tomorrow, the pair of you. We'll have a chat." It was a nice way of saying, _what on earth's going on_. 

Tommy hovered in the doorway, quiet. He held something in his hand, a tiny, bubble wrapped package. He patted it into Draco's palm. "For you, son," he said. 

Draco opened it when they'd gone. It was a tiny rabbit figurine with a chipped paw. He didn't let go of it, and maybe only Harry could see that his eyes were wet. 

Sometimes Harry remembered that not many people had loved Draco in his life, and it hurt. 

~*~

Draco wouldn't let Hermione touch either the scar from where his dark mark had been, or either of his and Harry's entwined and bonded snakes. "It's not this that's killing me," he said. There was a pause. "I was already sick before Harry even found me."

"Not like this," Harry said, because Draco had starved himself of magic for months and months before Harry had found him, and the dark mark still had its power. It needed magic to function, and so Draco had starved himself of it, but it still hadn't given in. 

Draco smiled. "If it is this," he said carefully, looking down at their entwined snakes, the new mark, his body's new master, "I'd rather this did, than what was there before. I'd rather die with this than what was there before."

It took everything Harry had to not give in and break in front of him. 

~*~

Hogwarts in the summertime was quiet and haunting and still. The room in the hospital wing had a window that looked out over the lake. Draco, who slept most of the time and didn't have the energy to sit up when he was awake, could see it from his bed. Harry, who sat by his bedside, stared at it for hours at a time. 

Draco was dying. Everybody knew it. Hermione brought Sheila and Tommy to see him every day. Draco's beloved animal figurines were laid out on the bedside table. 

"Such a silly thing to love," Draco said softly, late one evening when he was awake and Harry was curled into his side on the bed, arms wrapped around him. 

"No," Harry said, because there were more now, more that Harry had found in little antique shops and charity shops and the second hand market he'd used to visit with Draco. "They make you happy."

"You make me happy," Draco said. He was tired and weak and every time he fell asleep, it was for longer. One day soon he was going to fall asleep and not wake up. There was a long, long pause. "Do you think they'll find anything?"

"Definitely," Harry said. Hermione and Professor McGonagal had been leading the research into Draco's illness, into the complex magic that underpinned the dark mark and its mastery, and how it gained its power, and what Harry had missed when he'd offered Draco a new bond instead. "Hermione's the smartest person I've ever met."

"Oi," Draco said sleepily. "I was second in our year."

"Yeah," Harry said, "and I hated you for it."

"Love me now, though, don't you?"

"Hopelessly," Harry said softly, but Draco was asleep again, and this time, he might not wake up. 

~*~

Narcissa was there when Harry woke up, her face pale. 

"How is he?" she asked. 

"The same," Harry said. "I didn't know where you were."

"A long way away," she said. "I lost Draco and there was nothing left."

"We can still save him."

She nodded. "Ms Granger-Weasley's preparing her research to review with me. I believe I may have some ideas that may help." She paused. "Why all the animals?"

"They're Draco's," he said. "He collects them. They make him happy."

Her eyes were wet. "Thank you," she said. "For finding him. For looking after him. For saving him."

She didn't say, _for making sure he ended up here_ , but Harry heard it anyway. 

~*~

The days dragged on. The weather was sweltering, and Draco slept longer. They were losing him. Harry held his hand and refused to sleep and only ate when one of them forced a plate in front of him. Their research continued long into the night. 

Harry woke up one night to Draco's hand in his hair. 

"Your hair's always a mess," Draco said. "I don't know why I put up with it."

"You like how rugged and untidy I am," Harry said. 

Draco smiled. He looked pale and exhausted and hollow. "Tell me about our house," he said. "Tell me about the garden and how we'll live there forever and grow old and have tea outside on the patio."

"We'll have display cases for your animals," Harry said. "I'll get them for you."

Draco nodded, lacing his fingers with Harry's. "Tell me about how we're happy."

Harry did. He talked until Draco was asleep again, until his grip on Harry's hand was slack and loose. 

He didn't cry. 

~*~

Hermione shook him awake. Her eyes were bright. "We've got something to try," she said, and Harry's mind went blank. He was back in Draco's room, in that horrible house where his flatmates hated him and he didn't know how to live in a Muggle world, where he had nothing but two tiny animal figurines, and Harry had found him. 

"What are you going to do?"

"Save him," Hermione said, and Harry hadn't begged, but he'd wanted to. 

~*~

Later, much later, Harry woke up to hands in his hair. 

"Potter," Draco said. "You could at least have changed your clothes this week."

Harry looked up. Draco was smiling. "Did it—"

They were all there, Hermione and Ron and Narcissa and Sheila and Tommy, and they were smiling. 

"It's my turn to look after you for a change," Draco said, and Harry broke down and sobbed. 

~*~

"Aren't you worried there won't be any room for you anymore?" Ron asked, when Draco came in from the market with Sheila and deposited a paper bag on the table in front of Harry with a small glossy ornament of an otter on a grassy bank inside. Narcissa was coming over for lunch later. Hermione was outside in the garden, putting up a bird table with Tommy. 

Draco was putting the kettle on. He still walked with a stick, and his hands still shook, but he was alive, and he was home, and he was Harry's. 

"No," Harry said softly, as Draco turned around and smiled at him, eyes bright. "I'm not worried at all."

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr](http://magicalrocketships.tumblr.com/post/172721231538/just-a-touch-of-your-love-by-sunsetmog-harry).


End file.
